Every day of my adult life, I wake with the thought of how much I love my siblings. There was a time when I did not like most of them and they felt the same about me. When it came time to sit my sister, brother and me, everyone would argue about who didn't want to watch me. Mom and dad were easy on me. I know now it was because they were tired by the time I came along. The elder children were not impressed. I was prone to tantrums. My big debut in public was during the filming of the movie I was in; It was my best work to date.
It was one of those summer mornings were you woke up hot. Mom, my brother, sister and the middle sister walked up town to the hotel where they were shooting a portion of the movie.
Most of my tantrums were triggered by one or more of my siblings.So, all the way up, my middle sister {She was everything you may know or heard about the middle child} would not stop telling me that I better behave. Just when I was beginning to get tired, the hotel came into site.
I don't remember how many times they had to holler cut but on que, I would scream to the top of my lungs every time the lead actor walked toward me and my sister. Not wanting to take me out of the scene, they waited until I fell asleep on my sisters' shoulder. I didn't get in trouble because we weren't suppose to be there anyway. My sister put the fear of god in me after that and for years I feared and respected her. When she married our relationship turned for the better.

Mom and dad were creatures of habit. You never had to guess their comings and goings. Church on sunday-Mom was the head organist and choir director. There were no elders in our church,just deacons. My dad was the head deacon and sunday school teacher. I loved it when he taught, because he made the bible stories come to life and we were a captive audience. My elder brothers and sisters made up most of the choir. No matter how late they got in the night before, my dad would burst into their bedrooms and shout "RISE AND SHINE!!!,THANK GOD FOR ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL MORNING." Off to church we went.
We walked everywhere. Very few people had cars back then. Mom and dad never drove and to date, two of my siblings still do not drive.
Tuesdays, they went to prayer meeting;thrusday,choir practice and once a month town meeting and the the meeting house nearest our house. Everyone belonged to a club and they went to that meeting once a week. I bagan to learn the days of the week by what we had for supper.
Tuesday was the worst for me and everyday I would ask mom if it was tuesday yet. I would beg mom not to leave me. Once they were out
of site, someone would order me into the house. There was a huge closet off the dining room that collected stuff. I was put in there and sat in the dark for hours and then the door would open and someone would tell me to go to bed. Sometimes I got locked in my parents room and I would hide under the bed until I was let out. Not knowing for sure if I was going into the closet or up stairs,I would put matches, candles, coloring books and what ever else I could find to help me pass the time and when mom said "yes,today is tuesday" I would gather up my stuff and put everything in the closet.

My mothers heart was always on her sleeve. with Dad we knew there was a time to approach and not to approach. In most matters he had the last word. I only heard them argue about bills; on every other matter they were pretty much in sync.
I adored my dad and he adored me. He even had a special name for me. We weren't allowed to leave the top of the hill let alone the yard. We started spending more time in the yard after the rooster was put to rest. I thought that the chickens were pets and there were times when I didn't have to beg mom to let us play on the other side of the house. On those days a chicken would disappear and we were told that it went to heaven. {where ever that was} One day when mom so easily allowed us to play on the other side of the house, I decided to look out the window that looked out into the yard. Until the story of that day was told and as everyone laughed at the telling, I didn't realize that the screams I heard were coming out of my mouth. After that, there were no more chickens and the rooster who thought he was a dog, would chase people out of the yard and sometimes down the hill, was served up to the family who refused to eat him and dad had to give the cooked bird to another family. Now we could play in the yard anytime we wanted and out front were we played hopscotch, redlight, aggies and simon says.
The best part of the day was supper time because mom would let us go to the bottom of the hill and wait for dad. As soon as I got him in my sights I would run to fast I could hear and feel the wind as it rushed past my face. I would jump into his arms, he would put me on his shoulders and grab my sisters hand and home we went. He always smelled of fresh cut wood. He was a finish carpenter and to this day I still see his work on some of the most beatiful old homes in town.
I recently learned a black museum was established in my home town with little or no mention or my family. If I should be blessed to write a book, all that will change.
No one was allowed to eat until dad came home. If he was late, mom wood allow my sister, brother and me to eat. Dad was a man of pride and somewhat complex. Mom knew him quite well and sometimes his word, respectfully, wasn't always final. Case in point; I mentioned a movie. The producer come to our family first and dad said no but mom got some of us in anyway. Until a few days ago, I thought I was about five or six when the move was made. I looked it up on line and found that it came out in 1949 and I was born in 46. I remember everything and I was only three.

It appeared that everyone who knew my mother loved her.
A walk up town {we lived in the south end} to pay bills took two hours or more instead of one because people always stopped to talk to her. There was always an unrelated face at the table come supper time and anyone sick in the neighborhood never had to want for care.
I only remember the door being locked a few times. People just opened it and called out. I use to jump out of my skin when someone rang the manual door bell. There was always an array of visitors and when mom wasn't to busy, she would bring out the tea service and what ever she had baked in the kitchen.
At some point, I had become shy and when company came I would hide behind chairs or under the dining room table. I knew about gay people at an early age. The gay people of color visited mom alot because she was so loving and excepting. They were my favorite because they always made my mom laugh as they related stories thatI had no idea what they were talking about. I learned no matter your belief, Our God is a God of love and we should emulate that.
Mom always incouraged her children to develope their natural talents. She turned out a group or singers, musicians,artist and actors. She had my sister and me on stage when I was six and in a movie before I started school. One or two nights a week, the family would gather around the piano. Our voices ranged from contralto to tenor. Mom kept up with all the latest music; We sang everything from country,musicals,ballards,opera,gospel,spirituals and hyms. My dads bass was so strong,my insides would vibrate everytime he sang.
During the summer months,people from the neighborhood would come with their musical talents and join in.
With thumb in mouth, I litteraly clung to my mothers' apron strings. At nap time she would hold me until I fell asleep. During that time I was to young to join in, so I sat between the legs of the piano in hope no one would remember I was there and I would fall asleep watching my mom's feet as they pushed down on the peddles. Looking back I realized, that those were the nights I wet the bed.

Before mom and dad married,the back half of the house was rented. Moms family lived in the front half. Every room in the whole house had a fireplace. There was nohot running water,electicity,{kerosene lamps which we still used during a storm}central heating and the toilet was the outhouse in the yard. I come from a family of great story tellers and I loved hearing the outhouse stories.
Dad closed up all the fireplaces except the large one up stairs in the back half of the house.He installed a coal burning stove in the dining room, wired the front half and put a toilet in the small hallway led from the kitchen to the other side of the house.
My brothers slept on the other side of the house and the older children made their playground. It was way bigger than the family quarters. After my brother{who thought he was a scientist]blew up the kitchen on the other side while experimenting with chemicels from a chemistry set he brought though a mail order catalog,{mom said the first thing she saw smoke coming from his clothes and hair} that part of the house rapidly deteriorated.
Mom did all the cooking,baking and boiling water for cleaning,bathing and washing clothes from the wood stove in the kitchen,even in the summer. My brother,sister and I bathed in a tub put near the coal stove. It was very soothing in the winter months.
Mom had a victory garden and we had to go out front and shovel the horse droppings from the tin mans cart. He sold household items and such.And you could hear him coming because the tins clanged as his horse trotted up our hill. The droppings went into the garden. Mom was good at bartering. The droppings were shoveled up in exchange for items on the cart. We also raised chickens.
Mom canned everything and made from scratch:breads,cakes,candy,pies,jelly,jam,soap and quilts. While taking care of us she took care of the neighborhood. There was always an unrelated face at the table come supper time. She washed and starched dads dress shirts and ironed them with a iron heat from the wood stove. Until she got the plugin iron and washer,all the clothes were washed using a scrub board. These new appliances made a huge change. However, she still had to take each item out of the washer and put them through the ringer. I would watch in horror the few times mom struggled to pull her caught hand out of the ringer.
She brought in extra money teaching piano and cleaning homes. If there was a child,she would bring me along to be a playmate. In later years it angered me to think that a music and English major could only get a job cleaning homes.
I never heard my mother raise her voice in anger and never heard her complain about the choice she made.

We grew up in the house my mother and her sister were born in.